


just know you're not alone

by zialllovessterek



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Internalized racism, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, PoC Harry, Sirius and Remus raising Harry, but what else is new, child abuse tw, established Sirius/Remus, slight au because Sirius isn't in Azkaban and Regulus isn't dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6111871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zialllovessterek/pseuds/zialllovessterek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry starts visiting his school guidance counsellor, Mr. Lupin, and revealing more about his home life. </p>
<p>Basically just Sirius and Remus adopting and raising a seven year old Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I.

"Harry," a voice said for the second time. "Do you know why you're here?" 

Harry chewed on the corner of his fingernail. Aunt Petunia said it was a vulgar habit, but she wasn't there to slap his hand away from his mouth like she usually did, so he figured it was alright. 

He felt something warm in his mouth and realized that by avoiding the question to bite his fingernails, he had bit through the skin. He pulled a face as the taste of iron filled his mouth and hastily wiped his hand on his shirt. 

"I don't know why I'm here, sir. Ms. Roberts just told me to come see you at recess," Harry explained finally. He hoped he wasn't in trouble. He wasn't sure what a guidance counsellor did, and being forced to go in at recess seemed like a punishment. He knew he wasn't a good boy, but he tried to be on his best behaviour. 

So far, Mr. Lupin seemed nice enough and not like someone who you're sent to see when you're being naughty. He had a big bowl of chocolates on his desk and the room was littered with bright toys that Harry had only seen on the television. 

"Well, Harry," Mr. Lupin pushed the bowl of chocolates in Harry's direction, allowing Harry to take a couple. "You certainly aren't in trouble if that's what you're worrying about. This is just a visit to check in and see how you're doing."

Harry paused mid-bite of chocolate. A check in? 

Mr. Lupin seemed to sense Harry's confusion and continued. "Ms. Roberts has noticed that you've had some trouble with the other children at recess. Do you want to talk a little bit about that?"

Harry slumped in his seat and busied himself with unwrapping another chocolate. Ms. Roberts must have told Mr. Lupin about the bruises that would sometimes bloom on his arms and legs. 

"What about it, sir?" Harry asked warily. He knew that nothing could be done about it; he had made the mistake of talking about it with his teacher in the first grade and it resulted in catastrophe. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been called in by the office and Aunt Petunia's shrill shrieks of indignation still echoed in his ears. They had insisted that Dudley was a little angel and that Harry, this misbehaving liar, had been telling tall tales. 

"Why do you think that the other kids are mean to you, Harry?" Mr. Lupin's expression was unreadable, which made Harry slightly uneasy. 

"If you haven't noticed, sir, I'm kind of a freak," Harry stated. He unwrapped another chocolate and waited for Mr. Lupin to realize that he was in fact a freak and send him on his way. 

Mr. Lupin's eyebrows shot up and he ran a hand over his scarred face quickly before schooling his emotions. "And what," he began slowly, "do you mean by that?" 

Harry frowned. "Isn't it kind of obvious, sir? I'm not a good boy like my cousin is, and I'm very ungrateful and my relatives are kind enough to care for me."

Mr. Lupin jotted something down in his old, strange looking notebook before shutting it. He seemed to forget that Harry was there for a moment as he stared out the window behind Harry. Harry wasn't quite sure how to discern Mr. Lupin's expression, and was surprised to recognize a note of sadness. 

Harry felt bad now. Mr. Lupin had been nothing but kind to him, and he repaid him by making him sad. 

"Sir, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be naughty and upset you. I can leave now, if you'd like," Harry stood up from his chair. 

Mr. Lupin broke free from his seemingly hypnotized state and realized that Harry was about to leave. "Wait! Harry, you weren't being naughty. You didn't make me upset, it's just what you said..."

Mr. Lupin let his sentence trail off and Harry obediently sat back down. 

"I'm not in trouble?" Harry asked tentatively. Sometimes Uncle Vernon acted like he wasn't angry when he really was. Grownups could be confusing. 

Mr. Lupin nudged the bowl of chocolates in Harry's direction again. "You're definitely not in trouble, I promise." Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Can you tell me a little more about living with your relatives?"

"They're very good to have taken me in because my real parents are irresponsible drug addicts who are unfit to care for me. I'm very grateful," Harry recited the lines that had been instilled into his brain since as long as he could remember. He wasn't sure what a drug addict was, and when he had asked Uncle Vernon he got a slap upside the head. 

Mr. Lupin inhaled deeply for a minute and opened his mouth, only to close it again before speaking. "That's very interesting, Harry. I'm assuming your aunt and uncle have told you this?" Harry nodded in confirmation and Mr. Lupin continued. "I understand that you have a cousin as well. How do you get along with Dudley?"

"Erm... Me and Dudley don't get along that good," Harry was pleased to see that Mr. Lupin didn't interrupt him to correct his grammar like how Aunt Petunia always did. "He doesn't like people knowing that we're related 'cause the way I look."

"And what's wrong with the way you look?" Mr. Lupin had that same sad, thoughtful look on his face. 

"Well, Aunt Petunia said that I look unkempt, 'cause she says my hair is 'nappy' and my skin looks dirty, sir," Harry explained. Maybe Mr. Lupin hadn't noticed that Harry didn't have the same fair skin and smooth hair as everybody else at school. 

"Harry," Mr. Lupin said gently. "Your skin isn't dirty, that's just the colour that it is. Your hair isn't unkempt or nappy, that's it's texture and it's normal. You don't look strange or freakish, you look just right."

Harry blinked in surprise. "Oh," he let out. 

Mr. Lupin scribbled something else in his notebook. Harry peered forward to try to see what he was writing, but the writing looked like blurry squiggly lines to him. 

The intercom let out a ringing sound, meaning that recess was over. Harry stared glumly at the floor. He had liked his time with Mr. Lupin and didn't want to go to his next class, which was science. Harry hated science.

"Harry, since you missed recess, do you want to play outside for a few minutes? I can write a note for your science teacher so that you don't get in trouble," Mr. Lupin offered. 

"Yes please, sir!" Harry happily chewed on his fingernail. Mr. Lupin had to be the nicest guidance counsellor ever. 

After tucking the note Mr. Lupin had given him into his pants pocket, Harry ran outside to the monkey bars. Recess was so much more fun when there were no bullies to look out for and he could have fun by himself. 

Harry hoisted himself up on the monkey bars and hanged upside down with his eyes shut, gently rocking back and forth. Suddenly he felt something warm and wet on his nose and opened his eyes to find himself facing a huge fluffy black dog. Harry shrieked and tried to wriggle back from the dog, and his jerky movements caused his legs to slip off the monkey bars and before he knew it, he was falling off the monkey bars and landing face first into the pavement. 

Harry felt his eyes well up with tears as his left cheek skidded on the gravel. "Ow! That really hurt," Harry cried to the dog. "What did you have to scare me for?"

The dog seemed almost apologetic as he whined and licked Harry's face. Harry couldn't stay angry at him and begrudgingly started to smile when the dog started playfully nudging him with his nose. 

Harry wiped away his tears. "Okay, fine, I can't be mad at you. What's your name? This is a primary school, I don't think you belong here." 

The shaggy mutt barked, as if to agree, and rested his head in Harry's lap. 

"I'm going to call you Superman, because Superman saves people and you saved me after I fell off the monkey bars," Harry explained, ignoring the fact that the dog was what had caused him to fall in the first place. 

"Harry, it's time to come inside now," Mr. Lupin called from the school entrance. He came out to the playground to see what was taking Harry so long. 

"Mr. Lupin, this is my dog Superman," Harry explained as he petted the dog. "He saved my life and he's very friendly."

Mr. Lupin looked torn between amusement and annoyance. "That's actually my dog, Harry. His name is Padfoot. He must have somehow escaped my office," Mr. Lupin said this sentence especially to Padfoot, who seemed abashed. 

"He's your dog, sir? You're so lucky, he's the best dog ever. Can I visit him sometime, sir?"

Mr. Lupin beckoned for Harry to return to the school. "Perhaps, Harry. Now off to science class with you, and don't forget to give your teacher the note I wrote for you."

As Harry teetered off to class, he didn't hear Mr. Lupin exasperatedly scold Padfoot, "I expect your ego is big enough without being idolized and called 'Superman'."


	2. II.

Harry loved dogs. When he was little and didn't know better, he pretended to have a pet dog named Dog. According to his book from the library, dogs are loyal creatures who love their owners more than anything. Of course, Harry had dropped the idea of Dog after Dudley told Uncle Dursley that Harry was secretly harboring a dog in the house. Aunt Petunia has nearly fainted at the thought of a "dirty, disease infested mutt", as she had put it. After his punishment, Dog was added to the part of Harry's brain that contained things he wasn't allowed to talk about. 

That's why when Harry was at the park and he saw Mr. Lupin's dog, he let out a quiet exclamation of delight before hurrying over. 

The dog, Padfoot, seemed to be comfortable waiting for Harry, wagging his tail and drooling contentedly into the sandbox. Harry glanced over his shoulder to ensure that Dudley was preoccupied with burning ants with a magnifying glass. 

"Padfoot, what are you doing here?" Harry sat down beside Padfoot and waited for an answer. Sometimes, in movies and books, dogs could speak and say really funny things. Padfoot just wagged his tail harder and nuzzled his wet nose into Harry's arm. "Are you here to play with me?"

Harry was momentarily distracted, as he observed an out of breath, frowning man entered the park and scanned the playground before fixating on the large, black dog. His dark eyes narrowed as he strode over. 

"Uh-oh, Padfoot," Harry whispered to the dog as the stranger approached. "I think you're in trouble." 

"There you are, Padfoot," the man spat out as he wiped his brow. Padfoot whined pathetically. "You can't just go running off to wherever the fuck you please, you know." 

Harry gasped at this. "Sir, you said a swear!" He looked around to see if anyone else had heard. "Those are naughty!"

The tall stranger looked at Harry as if he was just now realizing his presence. He glanced at Padfoot for a second and then back at Harry. Harry felt his face heat up as the stranger studied him. The man pulled a cigarette out of his large coat pocket. Harry watched as the cigarette somehow lit itself without any matches, and the man shut his eyes for a second, taking a long drag and suddenly looking not quite as sullen as he had before. 

The man opened his eyes once more. "You're Harry Potter."

Harry felt very uneasy. Strangers weren't supposed to know your name. Padfoot looked at Harry with what could only be described as a reassuring grin, and nudged him as if to let him know it was okay. "Yes, sir. Who are you?"

"I'm Regulus," the man stuck out his hand that wasn't holding a cigarette. "Padfoot is Remus's and my mutt." 

Padfoot growled at this and Harry spoke up for his new found friend. "He's not a mutt! He's a..." Harry scrambled his brain for some sort of impressive adjective. "A majestic pooch!"

The man barked out a laugh at this, revealing a gold tooth in his molars. 

Harry's mouth spoke up before his brain could stop him. "Excuse me, sir? Do you have a gold tooth because you're rich or because you don't brush twice everyday?"

Padfoot seemed to enjoy this question and awarded Harry with a lick on the cheek for that one, while Regulus glared at Padfoot as if he had been the one to ask. 

"Well, I'm certainly not bloody poor," he finally retorted. 

"You swore again! That's twice! Each time that you say a swear, you have to put one pound in the swear jar. That way, you remember not to wake up the whole house yelling swears at people for not being good little boys and everybody gets a good night's rest," Harry explained. Uncle Vernon was very good at filling up the swear jar, especially when he caught Harry telling tall tales or making weird things happen. 

"Is that how it works in your house? People yelling swears at other people for not being good little boys?" Regulus looked troubled at this and searched through his coat for another cigarette. 

Harry leaned into the warm comfort of Padfoot's fur. "That's how it works at everybody's house, I 'spect."

Regulus checked the elegent, old-fashioned watch on his wrist for a moment before muttering, "fucking shit, we're late." Harry opened his mouth for a moment, but was cut off by Regulus before he could speak. "I know, I know, I said another swear. Here, how much is each swear usually worth?"

"It's a pound if it's the normal kind of swear, and it's two pounds if it's the screaming kind of swear that wakes everyone up," Harry recited helpfully as Regulus flipped through his wallet. 

Regulus hurriedly handed him a single bill. "There, that should cover it in muggle money. Come along, Padfoot, we've got to get going now."

Harry hugged Padfoot dreadfully tight and whispered, "say hi to Mr. Lupin for me," before letting Padfoot obediently totter down the street after Regulus. 

Harry smoothed out the bill that Regulus had given him and gasped in astonishment. It was a fifty pound bill. That was worth... Harry tried to do the math in his head before giving up. That was worth a lot of swears! 

Harry was grinning down at his new found richness until he and Dudley returned home that night. After that, he had to hide it in his pocket for safe keeping. While he was cooking dinner, he would taking breaks every once in a while to pull the bill out of his pocket and smile gleefully. At one point, he had been admiring the sum for too long, and when he turned back to the chicken he was grilling, it was completely dry and overcooked. 

Uh-oh, Uncle Vernon absolutely detested dry meat. Harry desperately looked around, trying to think of some sort of solution that could salvage the chicken. In doing so, he inadvertently got Aunt Petunia's attention. 

She squinted at him from the other side of the kitchen. "What do you look so guilty about? What have you done?"

Harry didn't answer. Sometimes grown ups asked questions that didn't need real answers. 

"Vernon! Vernon, get over here, I think the boy's done something!" Aunt Petunia screeched into the hall. 

Uncle Vernon was always in an extremely foul mood after work, and today was no exception. He took his time walking over to a quaking Harry, who was standing in front of the pan now, attempting to hide the overcooked mess. Vernon inspected the situation slowly, taking in the dry texture of the chicken and Harry's trembling form. 

"Well, well, well," he turned to Petunia. "It appears that the boy has overcooked the meat, in what was no doubt a lazy moment of distraction."

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry whispered to the ground. 

"Do you know how much chicken costs?" Harry assumed this was another one of those questions that grown ups ask but don't really want an answer to, so he remained silent with his gaze fixed on the floor. "Do not ignore me when I speak to you. Do you know how much chicken costs?"

Harry shook his head slowly. 

"Pet, how much did the chicken cost?"

"It cost twelve pounds," Petunia sniffed, preferring to look anywhere else in the kitchen rather than at her nephew. 

"So boy, you've just cost us twelve pounds. We take you in, we clothe you, we feed you, after your drug addict parents practically threw you out the door, and how do you repay us?" Vernon was so close to Harry at this point that Harry could feel little bits of spit hitting his face as Vernon got especially angry. 

"I'm so sorry, I'm very grateful. Please don't punish me," Harry's body shook with nerves as he blinked back tears. 

Vernon stepped back. "This isn't my choice. You decided this when you broke the rules. Go to your cupboard."

Aunt Petunia hummed in agreement. The cupboard was her particular favourite form of punishment, as it involved Harry being out of sight and out of mind. 

Oh, how Harry loathed that cupboard. It was dark and creepy and sometimes he got scared that they would forget he was in there and he would turn into a mummy like in Ancient Egypt. 

However, he knew that he had been naughty, so with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon watching in satisfaction, he walked himself out the kitchen and into the hallway where his cupboard was located. 

Harry could feel his forehead start to sweat as he approached the small doorway. He really didn't want to go in. 

"In you go," Vernon instructed him harshly. "And I'll tell you when you can get out, so don't ask!"

And with that Harry was given one last shove into the darkness and the door slammed shut, leaving only a thin crack of light streaming through the vent. He reached out behind him and felt along the wall until he felt his old mattress. Harry laid down on it and shut his eyes. With his eyes shut, he could pretend that he was taking a nap and that's why there was darkness everywhere. 

His left hand dipped into his jean pocket to feel the bill that Regulus had given to him. Harry smiled slightly; his thoughts of Mr. Lupin, Padfoot, and Regulus could keep him company until Vernon let him out. It made him feel a little less lonely.


	3. III

Harry wasn't sure how long he was in the cupboard for. He found it easier to shut his eyes and pretend he was napping, and anyways, it's not like there was a clock in his cupboard. Sometimes, he would sit upright and have to fight the urge to bang on the door asking to be let out. He didn't want to get in trouble for making noise, but he didn't want them to forget that he was in there. 

It was completely quiet in the Dursley household, meaning it was either nighttime or the Dursleys had all left and forgotten about him and he was stuck in that cupboard forever until he turned into a mummy. Harry didn't like to think about the second option. 

Harry's thought were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. This was very strange; nobody visited in the evening unless they were invited for dinner and it was past dinnertime at this point. Harry sat up straight with his ear pressed against the wooden door, trying to listen to what was going on. 

"Bloody eleven o'clock at night and someone ringing the fucking doorbell," Harry could hear Uncle Vernon grumbling as he stomped downstairs, causing a thin layer dust to sift down on Harry's head and shoulders. 

"Daddy said a swear!" A delighted Dudley could be heard exclaiming to a, without a doubt, cranky Aunt Petunia. 

Harry could hear Uncle Vernon having a muttered conversation with whoever was at the door, but it was too quiet for him to pick up on exactly what they were saying. 

With his curiosity overwhelming him, Harry pushed his ear as close to the door as possible to hear the details of this mysterious conversation. With his whole body leaning against the door, Harry went tumbling out of the cupboard when the door was suddenly opened. 

Harry was sprawled on the hallway floor for a moment, disoriented from the brightness he hadn't seen in a few hours. He blinked when he saw Mr. Lupin standing there beside Uncle Vernon. 

Mr. Lupin's bright eyes skirted the cupboard before settling on Harry. Had Harry been so naughty at school that the counsellor had come to tell Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia? Before Harry could open his mouth to ask, Mr. Lupin explained. 

"Harry, you're not in trouble," Harry let out a sigh of relief at this. "You're seven years old now, and your aunt and uncle are no longer able-"

Harry's heart leaped in his chest. "Am I... Am I going to live with my parents? Are they ready for me now? I knew it this whole time, all they needed was some time away to realize that they want me back!"

Aunt Petunia let out a horrified noise at this before fleeing upstairs. Uncle Vernon glared at Harry, as if it was his fault that Aunt Petunia was upset. 

Mr. Lupin covered his mouth for a moment and shook his head before crouching down so he was facing Harry directly. Harry felt uneasy; grown ups only crouched down to his level when they had to tell him bad news. For no particular reason, Harry could feel his eyes welling up with tears. 

This was when Uncle Vernon became uncomfortable. He didn't like being reminded that his nephew was a person with emotions. "Dudley, come wait with me in the living room. I'll heat up some pizza and we can watch the television."

"Harry," Mr. Lupin began carefully. "You're not going to live with your parents. You're going to come live with me. Well, me and my friend Sirius. We both knew your mum and dad."

Harry furiously wiped away his tears with a balled up fist and cleaned his nose with the back of his sleeve before speaking. It was bad manners to wipe your nose on your sleeve, but Mr. Lupin didn't seem to mind. "You know my parents, sir?"

"Yes," Mr. Lupin said curtly. "Now, Harry, I understand if you don't want to come live with us. You've lived with your relatives your whole life, and it's normal that could feel attached to..." He looked around at the dark, dusty cupboard and the wall of photographs, all lacking Harry. "...This."

"I think," Harry replied hesitantly. "That I would like to live with you. And you know my parents, so you can take me to meet them. And you have Padfoot, the best dog ever!"

"About Padfoot..." Mr. Lupin's mouth quirked into a sort of smile. "Actually, I'll tell you later. Or rather, show you later. Well, if that's your decision, you can pack your things together while I go inform your uncle."

Harry carefully folded up his school shirt and his school pants, both previously belonging to Dudley, and placed them inside his school bag with the 50 pound bill. 

He stopped for a moment to look around his dark cupboard. It was creepy and lonely, but it had been his place. He sat down on the thin mattress one last time and patted it gently, as if he was saying goodbye to a great friend of his. Then, he was ready to leave. 

"...kept him in a cupboard, never cared for him, and you don't even care that he's leaving? Dumbledore should have never given him to you."

"Do you think I wanted the boy? Do you think that I wanted this freak living in my house and interacting with my son? I never asked for this!"

Harry paused outside the entrance to the living room, vaguely realizing that the grownups were talking about him. He wondered if his relatives would even miss him. Maybe it would be like in some books, where he would leave and then they would all miss him and write him letters. Or maybe it would be like in other books, where he would leave and have a happier life and never hear from them again. 

Mr. Lupin exited the living room and almost didn't see Harry. "Harry, I'm sorry if you heard any of that. Do you have all your things ready?"

Harry wordlessly held up his worn out backpack. 

Mr. Lupin's polite smile seemed strained. "Is that it? That's all you have?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied cautiously.

"Okay, well, we'll be on our way then. Do you want to say goodbye?"

Harry shut his eyes and whispered, "goodbye house. Goodbye four Privet drive."

Mr. Lupin softened at this sight and picked up Harry's bag for him, before leading him to the cool night outside. 

They stopped on the other side of the street. 

"Harry, I need to tell you something important," Mr. Lupin placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "There's no use putting it off, so I'll just say it. Magic, like in some fairytales, is real. It's not like the witches from The Wizard of Oz. I have a wand that allows me to perform certain spells and I have some magical abilities."

Harry stared dubiously at his guidance counsellor. "Mr. Lupin, magic is not real. You have to be telling tall tales. It only exists in movies and books."

"Harry, let me ask you this: have you ever had anything happen that you just couldn't explain?"

Harry thought about the time that Aunt Petunia had shaved his head the day before they went to church so that he didn't look so unkempt, only to have it regrow overnight to its original length. Harry had been locked in the cupboard for what turned out to be four days, when he was accused of freakish behaviour. Aunt Petunia didn't try shaving his head again. 

"Once I made all my hair grow back fast. I don't know how and it made Aunt Petunia mad," Harry said finally. 

Mr. Lupin smiled fondly. "Your father's son you are."

"Can you prove your magic to me, sir? Can you pull a rabbit out of your hat with your magic wand?" 

Mr. Lupin chuckled. "I can't do that, unfortunately. I think it could cause quite a bit of harm to one unlucky rabbit. I can show you something else though. Hold on to my arm for one moment, tightly now and don't let go until I say it's safe."

Harry gripped his forearm as instructed, and they were in Privet drive one minute, and whirling through the air in the next minute. It was the strangest sensation of being pulled forward and backwards simultaneously, and similar to the feeling of jumping off of a fast swing. When they finally landed still in a different location, Harry's head was spinning as if he had just gotten hit with his aunt's frying pan. 

They were now standing in front of a small cottage-like home in front of a lake. A tall man with long black hair rushed out the door a moment after they appeared. 

"Remus, is this him? What am I saying, of course it's him! He looks so much like James!" The man pulled Harry into a fierce hug before he could protest. Harry hadn't had a lot of hugs in his life, and while part of him felt uncomfortable, the rest of him felt warm and cherished in the arms of this stranger. 

"Sirius, maybe give him some room to breathe. We don't want to suffocate him before he even comes inside," Mr. Lupin rolled his eyes with a fond smile. 

Sirius led them inside, chattering about how he was so excited to have Harry living with them and asking if they were hungry and telling a rather overwhelmed Harry how much fun it would all be. Harry followed by closely, trotting to keep up with long legged Sirius's faster pace. Mr. Lupin trailed behind them, glancing over his shoulder into the dark night every couple of minutes.

"So, Harry, did Remus already tell you about magic?" Sirius asked this as the three of them were sat down at the table, enjoying some hot chocolate before going to sleep. 

"Remus?" Harry frowned. "Who is that?"

Mr. Lupin raised one hand. "That would be me. You don't have to call me 'Mr. Lupin' anymore, since we're not at school."

"Okay, Mr- I mean, Remus," Harry tested out the name on his tongue. "Remus showed me the thing where we flew in the sky then whirled all around the universe then landed here."

Sirius shrugged with a grin. "That's not exactly what happened, but close enough. Do you want to see some more magic right now?"

"Yes, please!" Harry abandoned his hot chocolate to pay full attention towards Sirius. 

Sirius pulled out a magic wand, just like from the movies, and muttered something while pointing at his mug of hot chocolate. It instantly transformed from a mug into a hairbrush. 

Harry clapped excitedly. "Wow, Sirius! You're brilliant!"

"As if his ego needed that," Remus snorted as Sirius stood up and took a little bow, positively beaming at Harry. 

Harry yawned very loudly, causing Sirius to snicker. "Sorry," he blushed. "I didn't mean to."

"No need to apologize for yawning," Remus assured him. "It's getting late anyways, we should all head to bed."

"Where's your cupboard?" Harry asked as he brought his mug to the sink. It was better to ask, rather than to rudely snoop around the house trying to find it. "I think I'm ready to go to sleep now."

"Cupboard?" Sirius stared at Harry and then at Remus. Remus and him had a silent conversation, as grownups often do, over Harry's head quickly. "Harry, you won't be sleeping until our cupboard. You live here now and you'll have your own bedroom."

Harry couldn't believe it. He would have his own bedroom just like Dudley! "Really? My own room?" He remembered a hushed conversation between Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon that he had overheard. "If I'm too much of a burden, I can sleep in the cupboard. I know you didn't ask to have me dumped in your life and I'm very grateful."

Sirius turned away from Harry to face the wall, running his hands over his face as he trembled slightly. "I'm going outside for a smoke," he announced. 

"No, you are not," Remus said evenly. "You quit, remember?"

Harry could sense the tension and felt panicked. Had he already ruined everything in his new home? "I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I'm sorry if I've made you upset, Sirius. I promise I'll try not to be naughty in the future, please don't be angry with me."

"I'm not angry with you," Sirius turned back around to Harry's direction. "I'm just sad. Nobody should have to sleep in a cupboard, it's not right."

Harry didn't want to ruin the moment by telling Sirius that bad little boys did have to sleep in cupboards because they deserved it, so he kept quiet while Remus and Sirius led him upstairs to show him his bedroom. 

"We didn't know how you would want it to be decorated, so we just kept the walls blue and the sheets yellow. We can change it later once you decide what you like," Remus explained as they entered the bedroom. It was almost bigger than Dudley's room, with a bed that must have been at least four times bigger than Harry's old flimsy mattress from his cupboard. 

"It's perfect," Harry exclaimed as he sat down tenderly on the bed, scared to ruin it. "Thank you so much, I'm very grateful."

"Don't thank us Harry, it's what you should have had all along," Sirius smiled tightly as Harry hugged his pillow. 

Sirius and Remus left Harry to change into the pyjamas they had left him on his bed and to brush his teeth. Harry had a lot of fun watching the magical animated dragons on his pyjamas blow fire. It was only fake fire, but it was real magic, he had to remind himself. 

While he was brushing his teeth in the bathroom, he could hear Remus and Sirius talking in the kitchen. Eavesdropping was rude, but Harry reasoned that going downstairs and telling them to be quiet was more rude. 

"I don't give a fuck what Dumbledore says. There were all the warning signs you told me about: the bullying, the worn out clothes, the fact that he never has enough to eat at school," Harry could hear Sirius ranting as he paced through the kitchen. 

Remus poured him another cup of tea. "I know, he's better off here. We're going to have to be extra careful; Harry doesn't have the blood wards protecting him here that he had at Privet drive."

"We can protect him, Moony! We can do so much better than some half assed protection spell that Dumbledore set up!" 

Remus glanced upstairs. "Hush, Sirius. You're being too loud. Harry doesn't have to worry about this right now. He just needs some normalcy and calm. We can homeschool him here until he goes to Hogwarts, and that way we'll protect him until he's safe."

Harry's head swam with questions. Hogwarts? Blood wards? 

"I swear, he's not going to end up messed up. We'll raise him right, that's what James and Lily would've wanted," Sirius collapsed into the kitchen chair beside Remus, and lifted his feet into Remus's lap. 

Harry crept out of the bathroom into his bedroom quietly. He still had a lot of unanswered questions, but those could wait until the morning. For now, he had warm pyjamas with fire breathing dragons on them, and he was laying in the biggest bed he had ever seen. He was more content than he had ever been.


	4. IV

Harry had never felt this much pain in his life. It wasn't like the time that he had spilt bleach on his hands when he was cleaning, it was a different kind of hurting. His whole body felt covered in sadness and suffering and he couldn't open his mouth to scream for someone to help or do something or do anything really, as he watched a green light flashing and then- 

"Harry! Harry wake up!" 

Harry's body jolted as he scrambled away from prying hands to the other side of his bed. His marvellous dragon pyjama shirt clung to his body, soaked through with sweat, and he was shivering even though he felt like his skin was boiling. 

Sirius and Remus stayed on the other side of Harry's bed, giving him space to gather himself together. 

Harry frantically bit at his fingernails. He had woken up Sirius and Remus in the middle of the night, he was in for it now. They would have to punish him now, or maybe even send him back to the Dursleys. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." 

Sirius sat down beside Harry, leaving a bit of room between them. "You don't have to apologize. You had me and Remus worried sick, do you want to talk about your nightmare?"

Harry said nothing. This had to be a joke; they would pretend to care and then make fun of Harry for being a crybaby who still has nightmares. At school, Dudley had told all the other kids that Harry would wake up screaming and crying at night and everyone had thought he was a whiny scaredy-cat. 

Remus seemed to sense Harry's hesitation. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to, but it might make you feel better. Here, let's get you a pair of clean pyjamas and you can sleep in our room tonight if you'd like."

"I don't need to sleep in your room, I'm not a baby," Harry finally spoke up. 

Remus smiled at this. "Of course you're not a baby. Would it make you feel better to have Padfoot sleep with you?"

Harry pondered this for a second. Sleeping with a dog doesn't make you a baby and it's actually kind of cool. "Okay," he decided. "Padfoot can sleep with me." 

Remus brought Harry to the washroom to change into a new pair of clean pyjamas that had little golden balls flying around on them. They were called snitches according to Remus, and they were part of a magic game called Quidditch. 

When Harry returned back to his room, Padfoot was sitting at the foot of the bed, wagging his tail. Harry ran his fingers over Padfoot's soft hair and giggled when Padfoot licked his cheek. 

"Remember Harry, if you need anything, I'm right across the hall," Remus reminded Harry from the doorway. 

"Okay, thanks for the cool pyjamas," Harry waved at Remus before climbing underneath the covers that Sirius had cleaned with magic at some point so that they were no longer covered in Harry's sweat. 

Harry lay there in silence for a moment staring at the blackness in his room before whispering, "Padfoot? You awake?"

Padfoot nudged Harry's foot with his nose in response. Even though dogs only talked in movies, Harry felt like Padfoot could understand him. Maybe Padfoot was the smartest dog in the universe. 

"Can I tell you about my nightmare? I don't want Sirius and Remus to worry because they already did so much for me. Did you know that this is the second pair of pyjamas they gave me? And they don't even want to give me back to the Dursleys! I'm scared of doing anything naughty that will make them hate me."

Padfoot listened and seemed to nod at all the right moments and nudge Harry's foot at all the right moments. It was like having a friend to tell all your secrets to. 

"So I'll tell you about my nightmare. It always starts with me on the floor listening to someone scream and then seeing a bright green light and I get so scared that I wake up before anything else can happen. I don't want to be a baby, but it's super scary and I'm too scared to fall asleep now," Harry confessed for the first time aloud. 

He then revealed something that he was too embarrassed to mention to his new guardians. "I want my mum to hold me when I have nightmares and sing me a lullaby like Aunt Petunia did to Dudley when he got nightmares from watching a horror movie on TV. I have Remus and Sirius now and I'm grateful, but I want my parents. Do you think that Remus and Sirius will take me to visit my parents, Padfoot?"

Padfoot didn't do anything to indicate that he had heard. 

"Padfoot?" Harry whispered again. He must have fallen asleep. Harry took that as a cue that it was much too late for secrets, and he lay down on his back, staring at the ceiling and wondering when his parents would come and get him. 

Harry woke up very early, so early that the sun was just beginning to rise. Upon checking the clock, he realized that it was already 6:30, meaning that in terms of the Durlseys schedule, he was already fifteen minutes late for preparing breakfast. He raced downstairs as quietly as possible, to make up for his late start with cooking breakfast. On Saturdays, Uncle Dursley enjoyed a full English breakfast, so Harry decided that his new guardians were the same in that sense. He worked quickly and efficiently, frying the eggs while the bread was being roasted and stopped every once in a while to check up on the beans. 

Did Sirius and Remus like coffee? Or tea? Just to be on the safe side, Harry made both as well as freshly squeezed orange juice. By 7:30, everything was cooked and set out on the table. Harry didn't know whether or not to wake up Sirius and Remus for breakfast, but ultimately decided against it. He set himself to cleaning up the mess he had made, humming happily as he washed and dried dishes. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't hear Remus coming downstairs. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when a large hand rested on his shoulder. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Remus apologized. "Did you make all of this? You didn't have to cook us breakfast."

Harry chewed his fingernail nervously. Was Remus mad? "Of course I had to, sir. It's my responsibility to cook for you, since I'm being a burden to you."

Remus sighed and poured himself a cup of coffee. "You're not burdening us, Harry. Thank you for the breakfast, but please, don't feel like you have to cook for us. Making meals is an adult job."

Harry nodded, confused. At the Dursleys, cooking was a Harry job, not an adult job. Maybe Remus and Sirius didn't know how much of a burden Harry was. Once they discovered that he's not a good boy, then maybe he would have to earn his keep by doing chores and cooking. 

"Sirius! Harry made food!" Remus called out. 

Just like that, Sirius came running down the stairs and into the kitchen, bed head and all. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of their kitchen table covered in breakfast food and grabbed a plate to fill up. 

Harry watched happily as his guardians filled up their plates and started to eat. Sirius had made an almost inhuman noise when he had discovered that Harry had made his bacon perfectly and dug in with relish. 

Remus paused before digging into his own plate. "Harry, aren't you going to eat anything?"

"You're not eating breakfast?" Sirius stopped stuffing his mouth with bacon and egg to ask.

"Well, I'll have the leftovers if there's any when you guys are done," Harry explained. He wasn't supposed to eat meals with other people on account of the fact that his presence caused indigestion, according to Uncle Vernon.

"Nonsense! Here, I'll make you a plate," Sirius proceeded to fill a plate with the largest helpings of toast, eggs, beans, sausages, and bacon that Harry had ever been given in his life. 

"Do you want pumpkin juice? It's a wizarding drink, tastes a bit like orange juice," Remus explained as he was already making his way over to the fridge to pour a glass for Harry. 

Harry hesitated. "Is it good?"

"Your dad used to love it," Sirius smiled softly as he made that face of sadness and happiness that he always wore when he talked about Harry's dad. 

"Does he still like it?" Harry inquired. Did drug addicts drink juice? Harry had no idea. 

"Well," Sirius seemed lost. "Do you want to try it?" 

Remus handed the glass to Harry, and to Harry's surprise, he loved it. It didn't taste anything like Aunt Petunia's dreadful pumpkin pie and it was actually quite refreshing and sweet. 

"Harry," Remus's tone of voice sounded like when he was at school. "We have to make arrangements for your education. You're not going to keep going to muggle school, and you need a proper education. You're too young for Hogwarts, so maybe Sirius and I can privately tutor you until then."

"What's a muggle? And what's Hogwarts? What does Hogwarts have to do with blood wards and Dumbledore?" Harry blurted out before remembering that he had overheard that last bit of information when he was eavesdropping. He blushed profusely; eavesdropping was rude and he would probably be in trouble now. 

Instead of chastising him, Remus scolded Sirius. "I told you to keep your voice down last night. Now you have to do what Reg was telling us about, and put money into a swear jar."

Sirius rolled his eyes and rummaged around his bathrobe pocket for some strange looking coins that he dumped in a jar on the table. 

"To answer your questions, Harry, Hogwarts is a school for witches and wizards that starts at age eleven. Dumbledore is the headmaster of Hogwarts. And a muggle is someone like your relatives, who has no magical powers," Remus explained. 

"And what's a blood ward?" Harry persisted. 

Sirius and Remus did that thing where they pretended Harry wasn't there and had a silent conversation before Sirius gruffly said, "I think that's a conversation for another time."

Harry felt uncomfortable and like he was in trouble, even though Sirius had not said so.   
"Okay, so you're gonna teach me until I go to Hogwarts?" 

"Exactly," Remus grinned. "We're going to need some help though, so Sirius's brother Regulus will also tutor you."

"Oh! I've met Regulus at the park. He has a gold tooth!" Harry supplied. 

"That he does," Sirius laughed. "I told him it makes him look like a wank-" Remus cleared his throat and Sirius stopped for a moment. "Like a... Silly person."

Harry nodded sagely. "If I had a fake tooth, I would want it to be made of a diamond. Diamonds are the hardest rocks in the world, so that tooth would be able to bite through anything, even sand."

Sirius wrinkled his nose and chortled. "You eat sand?"

"Not anymore! I did once when I was four cause I was little and didn't know better," Harry blushed as he defended himself. 

Remus and Sirius exchanged amused looks. "Right, back when you were little and didn't know better."

"Hey, where's Padfoot?" Harry asked. "Maybe he can sit under the table and we could feed him food like they do in movies."

"About that," Sirius cleared his throat. "I need to tell you something else about magic. It's about Padfoot."

Harry's blood ran cold. "Is he dead? Did a witch curse him?"

"No, no, nothing like that. He is very much alive, I can assure you. Do you want to see him?" 

Harry nodded slowly. Then, Sirius did the most brilliant thing that Harry had ever seen. He stood up from his chair, and suddenly instead of Sirius standing in the kitchen, Padfoot was standing in the kitchen. Harry gaped at the dog, who wagged his tail in reassurance, and then tentatively reached out to pet Padfoot. 

"Sirius?" He whispered. "Are you in there? Can you hear me?" 

"It's still Sirius, he's just in the body of a dog," Remus assured him. 

"Can he change back? Or is he stuck?" Harry inquired nervously. He liked Padfoot, but he liked Sirius even better. 

Just like that, Sirius was back to being Sirius. "See, Harry? It doesn't hurt me and I'm not stuck being Padfoot."

Harry was still processing what he had seen. "Is it a curse? Maybe you should find a girl to have true love's first kiss with and she can remove the curse."

Sirius laughed at this. "It's not a curse. And I wouldn't want to have a true love's kiss with a girl, I have Moony for that."

"Oh," Harry said dumbly. "Who's Moony? Is that your wife?"

Remus looked very nervously at Sirius, who shrugged his shoulders. "No, Moony is a nickname for Remus. We're like your aunt and uncle; we kiss sometimes and live together and sometimes fight, but mostly just love each other."

"Oh," said Harry again. "I didn't know that was allowed."

"Of course it's allowed," Remus assured Harry. "But that's enough excitement for one morning, Regulus should be here soon, so it's time for you to get dressed and get ready for a day of learning."

As Harry made his way up the stairs, he could hear Remus and Sirius's voices echoing from the kitchen. 

"He took it pretty well, didn't he?" He could hear Remus say. 

"Of course he did, I didn't expect anything less from him. Now the only thing left to address is the matter of his parents."

Harry heard Remus inhale sharply. "I can't, Sirius. It's too much." 

Harry heard silence for a bit and then a smacking noise that he registered as kissing. He shuddered, grownups were gross.


End file.
